Not Your Every Day Care Package
by Shaddyr
Summary: Summary: Supply runs bring fresh coffee, eader scientists and headaches for McKay. They also bring interesting care packages full of unexpected surprises.Disclaimer: Not mine, or McKay would be otherwise occupied.


It was Arrival Day on Atlantis. The Daedalus had docked at 0800 hours, and as per usual, most of the expedition members were as hyper as children on Christmas morning.

Arrival day meant real, earth-grown coffee flowed freely in the cafeteria, and there would be by-God real cream to put in it. Within hours, fresh baking had appeared, and there were rumours of steak and baked potatoes for dinner. Chocolate and other treats were in abundance, and the internal Lantean black market was already hoping as people started trading their newly acquired loot. New books and magazines, CDs and DVDs, even video games were bartered for beer, porn, backrubs, the really good coffee, and the even better chocolate. Some of it was sequestered away for the cool stuff that the Stargate teams could barter for on the 'flea-market' planets they'd found. All in all, it was SOP for the day fresh supplies arrived.

Unfortunately for Dr. Rodney McKay, Arrival day meant spending countless hours in the main lab trying to get a handle on the new members of his staff. It was during these first critical hours on Atlantis he needed to impress upon them that his word was law in the labs, and that most of what they thought they knew was at best, rife with errors, and at worst, completely and utterly wrong.

"No, no, NO!" he'd barked at them, as he barked at every new bunch that stepped off the Daedulus, fresh scrubbed, squeaky clean, and secure in the knowledge of their brilliance. "Look, I understand that this is a difficult concept for your little minds to grasp, so let me try to break it down in words of less than three syllables. Almost everything that you think you know about the nature of quantum particles is wrong because it is all based on a flawed premise. To truly understand will require that you accept a massive paradigm shift."

He scanned the room, picked out the ones with mutinous glares and stared them down. "Now, pay attention and try to keep up while I explain. And for heaven's sake don't touch anything, especially if you have the gene. If you don't know what you're doing, you could blow up the lab - or worse, the city. And then I'll have to send Ronon after you."

He absolutely _had_ to utterly destroy their confidence, reduce them all to the status of insecure, unsure freshmen, make them willing to listen and learn. Any of them that wouldn't, that couldn't, would eventually end up going back to earth. As much as McKay might berate them, belittle them and treat them like incompetent morons, he was aware these were generally the best and brightest minds that earth had to offer, and unless they were particularly stupid, he really didn't want to lose any of them. Even if he could never remember their names, they were _his_ staff, and it was a point of pride for him that they be the most brilliant scientist in their respective fields, not just on Earth, but in both galaxies.

After several straight hours of beating preconceived notions and ingrained fallacies out of the newest crop of scientists, he was exhausted. The last newcomer had finally wandered off, shell shocked , several hours earlier, and McKay had been working on assigning them all to existing projects according to their skills and specialties even since.

With a sigh, he made the final assignment of a Dr. Braid to Radek's Puddle Jumper team. The woman had experience with the X302s and a brilliant grasp of propulsion systems, so there was hope she could be taught. He set his elbows on the lab bench and rested his head in his hands.

McKay was tired. Not just tired from the long day, but tired of having to get yet another group of wet-behind-the-ears specialists to accept that so much of what they knew was wrong. Just bringing them to the point where they were willing to accept that they needed to be retrained was gruelling work, and every two months or so, the SGC and the IOA sent a new batch, half of them fresh out of school, and the cycle started all over again. He wasn't cut out for teaching, but he was the CSO, so it was his responsibility to make sure they were taught, and watched over, and kept from blowing the city up before they really understood what they were doing. As if there weren't already enough things in the Pegasus Galaxy to cause him stress, what between life sucking space vampires, fascist warmongers and generally crazy people who worshiped the Ancients as gods.

He stood up with a groan and stretched, the pain and popping in his back a painful reminder that he'd spent too many hours hunched over his laptop. He swiped a hand wearily over his face before checking the time. Huh. Only 23:30. It felt a lot later. He spared a longing glance for the empty coffee pot in the corner of the lab. The newcomers had not yet learned they must never, ever, drink the lab coffee dry, else they incur wrath of an under-caffeinated Dr. McKay. Tomorrow morning they would get their first lesson. In the mean time, he'd have to go to the cafeteria if he wanted some coffee.

As he walked to the transporter, McKay reflected on the fact that he hadn't gotten any decent work from his regular staff for the last few days. Anticipation of the Daedalus' arrival had done the usual trick of rendering most of them completely useless. Even Zelenka had been distracted and out of focus. That very morning, Rodney had spent more time than usual yelling at people who were normally at least fractionally competent before he'd finally given up with a show of disgust. He'd kicked the whole lot of them out of the lab, telling them to come back when they were capable of coherent thought.

He stepped into the transporter alcove and set his destination for the cafeteria, then leaned tiredly against the wall.

McKay would never, ever admit it, but watching them all flit around the lab like butterflies on crack amused him, and he'd felt positively indulgent when he'd tossed them all out. He suspected that they might be on to him as he'd spotted several covert smiles when they made a break for the door, but he certainly hadn't let on, instead continuing to scowl and call them all names as they'd left. Couldn't have them thinking he had a soft spot for them, or they might try to take advantage of it.

A moment later, the doors opened, and he stepped out to find two of his staff waiting for the transporter. Choi and Albertson. Or something. He gave them a nod as he moved out of the way. They glanced at each other as they stepped in, then gave him a pair of sly grins just as the doors snapped shut. He frowned and tried to recall if he'd recently said or done anything to the pair of them that might earn him payback in the form of a practical joke. At this hour everything he'd yelled at his staff in the past week simply ran together in a big blur. But he knew that look - they were up to something, he'd bet next week's pay on it.

McKay yawned as he walked into the cafeteria, the smell of fresh coffee drawing him in like a siren song. He made a direct line for the pot, pouring himself a cup and lifting it to his nose. He sniffed appreciatively, inhaling the wonderful aroma before sipping the fragrant brew.

Fortified by the promise of caffeine, McKay glanced around the cafeteria. There were a few people scattered here and there nursing their own coffees or working on laptops while they ate a late night snack. In the center of the room there sat a group of people gathered around a number of large boxes, the contents spread out for display on the table before them. The traditional Arrival day activity of haggling and trading care package contents appeared to be in full swing.

McKay was not jealous that he hadn't received a personal package of his own. Everything he'd requisitioned had arrived, from the scientific journals and new tablet PCs to his stash of Cadburys chocolate and Molson's Dry. He resolutely turned away from the flagrant display of goodies to make his way back for the lab.

"Excuse me, Dr. McKay?" The tentative query carried across the room, stopping him in his tracks. He turned toward the young engineer who was approaching him.

"Yes, what is it?" He wasn't trying to snap at the man, but his irritation leaked through anyway.

The young man swallowed and took a deep breath, then continued. "There's a package for you over here, sir. It was just beamed over from the Deadulus a few minutes ago. We were about to call you..." he trailed off as McKay's eyes snapped over to the table. Everyone seated there was looking at him.

"A package?" McKay heard himself ask as he accompanied the engineer back over to the group.

"Yes sir," the man answered. Sanduh, maybe? "It's, well, it's not exactly your every day care package sir."

McKay glanced at him sharply as they reached the table, then looked back down at the people gathered there. Their expressions ranged from edgy, to sly to positively joyful. It made McKay more than a little suspicious.

"So?" he demanded. "Where is it?"

One of the linguists - Giovanni, if he recalled correct - was sitting with her back toward him. She stood and tossed a grin over her shoulder. "Right here," she answered, then turned to face him. In her arms was a calico kitten, not more than 8 weeks old.

McKay gasped, and before he even realized what he was doing, he'd shoved his coffee cup into someone's hand and relieved the linguist of the tiny bundle of fluff. The kitten protested the sudden change in position with a tiny mewl, but he cuddled it - a quick check proved it to be a her - up against his chest, stroking her tiny head and tummy and making comforting noises into her fur. With a minimum of fuss, she settled in and started purring.

He could feel the utterly idiotic grin splitting his face as he gazed down at the kitten in his arms. He was aware of the smiles all around him, and knew that news of his reduction to a blithering idiot upon being presented with a fluffy kitten would be all over Atlantis before he even got back to his lab, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

One of the people at the table was from the Daedulus crew, Corporal Biggs according to the name tag on his uniform. "Cleo, our ship's cat, just had kittens," he explained. "The Colonel isn't officially aware that we have a ship's cat, of course. Unofficially, the Colonel is known to be a cat person." There were snickers around the table before the crewman continued. "Unfortunately, when Cleo was taken to get her last check up, she got out for a bit. We didn't realize till after we broke earth orbit three months ago that she was expecting."

McKay's gaze fixed on the crewman. "There's more?" His voice absolutely did not go up with an interrogative squeak at the end of the question. He ignored the stifled giggles and smirks coming from the group.

"Yes sir, there are, but the others are already spoken for," the man apologized with a shrug. "This one was set aside for you by special request."

He opened his mouth to ask the next logical question, but the crewman held up a hand, cutting him off. "Don't even bother asking, sir. I'm not at liberty to say, and that is by a direct order. Even if you make my stay on Atlantis an unpleasant one, I can't tell you." The look on the crewman's face indicated that he was very much aware of exactly how unpleasant McKay was capable to making his stay in the city should he choose to be pissy about his refusal to tell.

McKay glowered at him, but his eyes were drawn back to the tiny fur ball he was holding, and the expression melted away, softening into a smile. He glanced back at the crewman one last time and tossed out a snort.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll get the bottom of this myself." He scritched the kitten under the chin. "So. Just the kitten? Any food? Litter box? Toys? Please tell me that whoever engineered this had the forethought-"

The linguist picked up a box on the table and presented it to McKay. It was full of assorted cat paraphernalia. Her expression was innocent. "Can I take this somewhere for you, Doctor?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and then without warning, laughter bubbled up from within him. He felt something inside his chest loosen, the constrictive net of stresses he'd been ensnared in falling away to reveal how very tightly he'd been wound. It occurred to him that in all the time he'd been on Atlantis, he couldn't think of one single time he'd had a real, deep belly laugh. For just a moment, they all looked a little panicked, since no one had a clue what to do with a mirthful Rodney McKay; however laughter, being infectious, soon gripped them all.

When he finally caught his breath and calmed, he had to chuckle at the reproachful look he was getting from the fuzzball for disturbing her nap. He petted her gently until she was settled and purring again, and then replied to the question.

"Yes. My lab please, if you don't mind."

She nodded and secured the box under one arm, then snagged his coffee from the person he'd shoved it at. Milton. Or Miller. Something. He was going to have to start getting these people's names right. It would make it easier to track the things that were currently going on under his radar.

He had his suspicions about who was ultimately responsible for making sure this kitten had ended up in his arms, and he felt a sudden, dizzying rush of warmth for his team. Though he was known as a tyrant, and he had reduced members of his staff to tears on more than one occasion, he pushed his people because he knew what they were capable of, and was not in the least bit surprised when they did something extraordinary. While it was quite likely many of them wanted to consign him to the deepest ring of hell at least part of the time, he got the impression most of them actually respected him the most of the time.

And what they were trying to tell him was that they _got_ it, really they did and he didn't have to carry the load alone, so could he _please_ relax already.

He stroked the kitten in his arms as Giovanni accompanied him to the lab, and decided that maybe Radek and Miko could take the newcomers over to the secondary lab tomorrow. He could spend the day trying to reverse engineer that device they'd brought back for PX4-688 two months ago, and maybe look over those power enhancement simulations that had been sitting on the back burner for weeks now. He could probably trust Radek to make sure the crazies didn't blow up the city for at least one day.


End file.
